In Which Dean Thomas Travels in Time
by MissSadieKane
Summary: Written for the Character Appreciation Challenge by Hillstar. In a fight with the Snatchers, Dean Thomas is flung back in time to when his father was still at Hogwarts. On a quest to find his way home he meets the generation destined to fight in the first war against Voldemort, while back home the second war rages on. Chapter 3: Regulus Black meets Dean.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters._

 _AN: This is AU from Dean on the run. I couldn't find any concrete evidence anywhere to say whether Thomas is Dean's father's or stepfather's name, so in this fanfiction, his father is called Thomas so that he can have a familiar name. I'm trying to include all the characters on the list in the story and have a different point of view each update. I'm not sure how it will work but it'll definitely include time travel._

 **Chapter One: Dean and the Snatchers**

Dean had been on the run for months when the snatchers finally caught up with him. Scabior, the group's current animalistic leader (Fenrir Greyback was on another mission), was currently chasing Dean through the dense and leafy forest.

 _Keep running, dodge the spell, mind the root, "Stupefy", dodge the next spell, avoid the branch…_

The chase seemed relentless, but Dean knew he had to outrun them. With his friends captured and Portkeyed away by the snatchers, he was vastly outnumbered by Scabior's group. However, with the group constantly firing spells at him, it was evident that he would eventually tire.

"Ceciditquus!" Scabior's last curse knocked Dean off his feet and he landed sprawled on the ground. By the time he turned his head, Scabior was already leering over him, grinning sadistically. "What do we have here? A young Mudblood perhaps?" he sneered.

Dean didn't reply.

"What's your name, Mudblood?"

"Thomas," he answered, knowing it wasn't a good idea to fight the entire group of snatchers – he would have to think of some other method of getting away.

"Thomas what?"

"Finnegan," Dean said the first name that came into his head.

"You don't look like a Finnegan, but I'll check the list," said Scabior, getting a scroll out from within his pocket. "No, no Thomas Finnegan on here. I'll have to take you back to the Ministry." He dug out another of the portkeys that he'd been using to directly transport prisoners back to the Ministry of Magic. The Portkeys led straight into holding cells, which Dean did _not_ want to end up in. "You know what I'm going to do now, don't you," said Scabior. Then he activated the Portkey and threw it at Dean.

At the very same moment, however, Dean attempted a spell he'd only read about – a spell designed to re-direct a portkey to somewhere he felt safe. However, what he hadn't realised was that the place he'd been imagining was Hogwarts, and since Hogwarts was currently overrun with Death Eaters, the portkey had had to improvise. As the unpredictable portkey touched him he was flung high into the air and span away into the whiteness of another dimension.

* * *

When Dean became aware he was in solid surroundings again, he felt astronomically dizzy. He appeared to be in a badly-lit corridor of Hogwarts, empty except for a black-haired boy in Slytherin robes. This was bad: there was a reason Dean had not gone back to Hogwarts with Seamus and Neville this year.

"How did you do that, Thomas? You're not supposed to be able to apparate in Hogwarts?" the boy asked. He looked around fourteen, maybe fifteen - probably a fourth year but not one Dean had ever come across before.

"I…" began Dean. It was confusing. The boy appeared to know him but Dean swore he'd never seen him in his life.

"Why are you dressed like that? You look absolutely filthy." The boy's tone confused him, coming across as both inquisitive and haughty at the same time. And even though he was three years younger than Dean was, it wouldn't take much for him to raise the alarm. It was quite possible that he had no clue that Dean was supposed to be on the run.

"Um…"

"You are Thomas, aren't you? The prefect? You look like him, but now I'm not so sure. Who are you?" the boy asked.

Now Dean was definitely confused. He had never been a prefect, although Seamus and Neville had told him he would have been a more obvious choice than Ron, who was always getting into trouble.

"You look like you've been confunded. I think it would be best to take you to the Hospital Wing and get you cleaned up while we're there. Follow me."

Not knowing what else to do, Dean followed the boy to the Hospital Wing. Perhaps the familiar face of Madam Pomfrey would be able to help.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading. I hope this was ok for you - I've never written anything about Scabior or Dean before. Next chapter is Scabior and Greyback. I'm not sure how Nagini will fit into this but I have chapters planned for the other characters. I may also do some other one-chapter stories for the weekly challenges._


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series._

 **Chapter Two: Scabior's Mission**

Something had definitely gone wrong - the Portkey was not supposed to flash like that. Scabior's prey had vanished, not even allowing Sacbior time to grab him and travel too. Had he apparated at the same time? No that wasn't possible. There were apparition wards, and apparition made a cracking sound not a flash of light. Then what? What had Finnegan been whispering when he grabbed the Portkey? Where could he have gone?

The other Snatchers were talking amongst themselves - annoying chatter that interrupted Scabior's thought process.

"Silence!" hissed Scabior. The incompetent, lower-ranking people he had to work with could be infuriating.

"But that wasn't normal," one of the others said.

"I know," grunted Scabior. "Search the area, while I check the holding cells." He used his own Portkey to arrive next to the cells holding the Goblin and the other two Mudbloods. Thomas Finnegan was nowhere to be seen, which meant the Portkey must have taken him somewhere else. Where to, Scabior could only guess.

...

"You idiot!" yelled Fenrir Greyback when Scabior had told him what had happened. "You'd better have something lined up to make up for this. Malfoy isn't going to be happy when we bring this measly bunch back to the manor."

"But I thought…" began Scabior. As far as he'd known, their group had only been responsible for finding Mudbloods and ticking them off the list. He was supposed to be taking them to the Ministry to be processed and tried, not to the Malfoys.

"You thought wrong then," said Greyback. "The Death Eaters are taking a special interest in _any_ friends of Harry Potter, and not only have you failed to recognise one, but you've let him get away too."

"So what do we do now?" Scabior asked.

Greyback huffed. "We find Potter, or face the consequences when we don't."

…..

Luckily, finding Potter hadn't been hard. A tracing spell had been cast so that anyone that spoke the name "Voldemort" could be found, and Potter was stupid enough to use the name. Fenrir Greyback and Scabior were able to proudly present the Mudblood Granger, Harry Potter (although disguised with a stinging hex), and Ronald Weasley when they arrived a Malfoy Manor later that day. Their reputations as competent Snatchers were upheld.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: The 'Not Thomas' Boy**

Being a Prefect was not all it was cracked up to be, Regulus thought as he trudged along the empty corridors at night-time. Sure, some of the First Years looked up to him, but his small stature and seeker build hardly made him intimidating, and he was hardly a figure of authority. The badge proudly displayed on Regulus's robes was simply a symbol that he hadn't put a toe out of line since starting Hogwarts, and not that he was a suitable choice for leading others.

Sirius would have teased him about it, had he been around – being a Prefect was so unlike Sirius and was something Regulus had wanted to be for a long time. He'd always tried his best to get good grades so that he'd be chosen. However, Sirius had abandoned him over a year ago now. Secretly he still missed him, but they weren't supposed to talk now, and Regulus wouldn't be expecting any more light-hearted teasing.

When Regulus saw the flash of light, his first thought was that something interesting was finally happening. Despite the fact that he knew the Gryffindors, like his brother and his irritating friends, roamed the corridors at night, he had yet to come across anyone at all, not even a Professor. So when Regulus came across the bedraggled, dirty-ridden teenager, who looked a bit like one of the older Prefects, he had been curious.

At first he'd thought the teen was Thomas, questioning how he had got there. Thomas, an acquaintance Regulus knew only by his last name, was a Slytherin seventh-year. Being good friends with Evan Rosier and Severus Snape, also seventh-years, Regulus knew that Thomas had been asked several times about his opinions on joining the Death Eaters and that he had disagreed with their views. He also knew that Thomas had been ostracised from the main gang of seventh-year Slytherins and mainly hung around with the two Ravenclaw Prefects instead.

On closer inspection the older teen was not Thomas, or at least wasn't the same Thomas that had educated him about how to do Prefect duty. There were subtle differences in his features and the older Slytherin Prefect would never have worn Muggle clothing like that, and certainly nothing so filthy. The teen looked as if he'd been on the run! He also looked distinctly shocked and as if he couldn't quite understand how he had arrived at Hogwarts or where he even was.

"You look like you've been confunded," Regulus told him. "I think it would be best to take you to the Hospital Wind and get you cleaned up while we're there. Follow me." The boy looked warily at him, while he helped him to his feet. It was clear to Regulus that the older boy was not only ill, but had no idea where they were, or who Regulus was.

"My name's Regulus. I'm a Prefect, in Slytherin, fifth year. I'm just taking you to the Hospital Wing. There's nothing to worry about," Regulus told him as they walked, hoping some of the words would stimulate the older boy's memory and get him to explain who he was. Instead it just seemed to instil panic in him.

"Is it because I'm in Slytherin?" Regulus asked. "If you like, we can go to McGonagall or Sprout. I'm sure they'd know what to do, or who you are. What house are you in?"

"Gryffindor," answered the boy who looked a bit like Thomas.

"Ok, McGonagall it is then," said Regulus, changing their direction. "I'm assuming you don't like the Hospital Wing. By the way, what's your name?"

The other boy looked hesitant to tell him and Regulus wondered why. He knew the names of many people in the school, including some Gryffindors, but had never been able to use a name against them.

"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about," said Regulus. "Look, I haven't even taken any House Points off you. If you tell me, I can help you."

Still Regulus didn't receive an answer, which frustrated him. He'd always tried to uphold the reputation that he could be trusted and now this person wouldn't even tell him his name. What did he think Regulus was going to do? Prosecute him? They walked in silence until they reached McGonagall's office, where Regulus rapped anxiously on the door. Professor McGonogall was a strict teacher and not someone Regulus had previously tried to bother in the middle of the night.

"What is it at this hour?" she questioned, coming out of her quarters. "Who's this?"

"He appeared out of nowhere," said Regulus, gesturing towards the boy he'd brought with him. "He says he's from Gryffindor, but I don't recognise him and he won't even tell me his name."

"Well he isn't a student of mine," said the Professor. At this, the older teen looked shocked and Regulus wondered if he had expected McGonagall to recognise him. Seeing this, the Professor backtracked and invited them into the office to discuss things. Regulus noticed a silver cat appear from the end of her wand, a Patronus, if he remembered correctly. Professor McGonogall therefore must have been worried enough to call for back up.


End file.
